Kiss From A Rose
by Chandrakantya
Summary: Leo sees her every Monday. Short hair, grungy clothes, many piercings that glow from the sunlight and red lips that curl to the beat of the music she listens to on her headphones. They always lock eyes, always turn away, never say a word – Leo falls in love with the girl on the bus. (200-word prompt challenge!)
1. Birth

**A/N: I had some very crappy, depressing days and obviously, short fun stories are the answer. I found a really cool 200-word prompt challenge, so I thought, why the hell not? XD**

 **I may update this every once and a while when I feel down – although I have to admit, staying at a 200-word count is freaking hard!**

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" **Kiss From A Rose"**

 **Leo sees her every Monday. Short hair, grungy clothes, many piercings that glow from the sunlight and red lips that curl to the beat of the music she listens to on her headphones. They always lock eyes, always turn away, never say a word – Leo falls in love with the girl on the bus. (200-word prompt challenge!)**

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He gulps the first time he sits beside her.

It's _her_. The girl on the bus.

It's the first time he's close to her, so close he can feel her arm against his own and can hear the music through her headphones.

Leo really tries not to look next to her side, but his eyes automatically glance at her either way, taking in the upturning lips and the way the elegantly punk make-up graces them lovely, the manner her nose crinkles in concentration and utterly cuteness, the Economics book she has planted on her legs, holds with delinquent fingers.

He notices the silvery thin pang of sweat on her neck that make her short hair sparkle and her necklace stuck against her throat in such a beautiful way that her skin appears to shine and her tattoos stand out like endless, bright stars on the sky.

She looks _ethereal_.

It takes all of Leo's willpower to stop staring, his gaze in front, chest out and head up as if there isn't any blush coloring his cheeks.

The uniform he wears clings at him in embarrassment and he sighs. Someday, Leo will talk to her.

But today is _not_ the day.


	2. Rain

It's one of Leo's bad days.

One of the days it's hard for him to wake up, because his limbs are heavy and the shreds of fear and guilt are weighing him down – his body a constant buzz, twisting his insides to reflect the ugly weather and blurring his mind.

He has his head leaned on the window of the bus, watching the rain fall against it and letting his ears drown the dripping sounds. His hand goes automatically to the glass, drawing hearts against the foggy window, hearts just like his dad made on car hoods in cold mornings.

He doesn't notice it when another hand joins him – _hers_ – writing with graceful fingers, and his heart skips a beat, eyes squinting to figure out the messy handwriting.

 _Such a romantic_ , the letters say, curvy and teasing just like the smirk she wears when he meets her taunting face, headphones, edgy makeup, and captivating eyes. The bus buckles and her fingers slip – accidentally graze his, a fleeting touch. She grins.

The moment is gone by the time she has left the bus, but the tingling, warm feeling has stayed on Leo's hand, his heart fluttering.

Maybe, it's a good day.


	3. Good Deeds

Leo's still, holding the bar of the bus as his legs wobble. Heat runs through him, cough pounding at his chest as he fights to keep it down.

He knows he's sick, knows he shouldn't be heading to work – but he also knows three lives depend on him to do so, even if they state otherwise.

He noticed today, Donnie huffing in defeat, Mikey's face falling at the pills in his hand, Raph's expression – oddly disappointed – before slamming the door shut.

His back has been aching, but he doesn't mind it. This weight is too sweet to be pain.

He sneezes and as fingers reach his bag, he senses something from his peripheral vision. He's caught it before he can even think, a knee-jerk reaction.

It's a packet of tissues. When he lifts his gaze, Bus girl is looking at him, eyes widened, but her piercing is raised along with her eyebrow as she smirks.

 _Thanks_ , Leo mouths, throat dry.

Her smirk deepens, grows into a pleased grin as she mouths back – _Oh, my pleasure_ , or it could be, _For good measure_.

Leo's not sure. He is certain though the flush through his face isn't just from the fever anymore.


	4. Good Manners

**A/N: Leo would die a little inside, if he didn't somehow repay her.**

 **I literally wrote this on the bus.**

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Next time Leo spots her in the crowd, red headphones and a matching beanie on the crown of her head, he budges his way through the bus, with as much purpose as he can, while stumbling on literally _everyone_.

 _Idiot_. He hopes she doesn't notice.

The moment he stands in front of her, dedicating the loveliest of seconds to letting their eyes meet, he hands her a brand new packet of tissues. She stares at his palm, lost and removes one earbud, cocking a questioning eyebrow.

"For you," Leo starts lamely, the first time he's actually spoken to her and his heart thumps, "y'know, since you gave me a packet last time, and all."

Her eyes remain wide, but then, the corners of her lips are curling, and she takes the tissues from him, making sure to linger her skin on his and watch the blush through his cheeks.

She doesn't say thank you, doesn't speak no matter how much Leo wants to hear her voice.

But if she leans closer to him, tilting her head so Leo can listen to the song playing along with her, and keeps a faint smile on her face, who can tell?

Leo can.


	5. Music

The moment the driver announces that construction work blocks the road, Leo's hands fall to his sides, groaning inwardly.

He barely acknowledges himself sinking in an empty seat, his body heaving into a sigh.

He can't be late at work, lose one of his jobs and tell three faces that he doesn't know if they'll pay rent. He misses the days when all he had to worry was making it home after Pride lunches in time for pretzels and Space Heroes with Mikey.

A hand nudges him and when he turns his head, he meets her eyes. It's _her_ , he sat next to _her_.

"Do you want to listen to some music? We'll be stuck here for awhile," she offers him an earbud, and Leo's eyes widen at her low voice, like soothing balm.

"C'mon," she snorts, teeth like fangs, and he can't deny, face hot.

It's some alternative punk rock piece and when she asks if he likes it, he doesn't mention he knows it from his repressed emo years.

Cheeks still red, he notices her eyes raking shamelessly over him, and allows the trace of an amused smile to form on his lips.

And the bus starts again.


End file.
